


Clemency

by ClockworkQueenTK



Category: The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Angst, Dark, F/F, F/M, Humor, Major Original Character(s), Minor Original Character(s), Multi, Paris - Freeform, Paris Institute, Romance, Shadowhunters - Freeform, Spiral Lab, Vampires, Warlocks, half-warlock
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-19
Updated: 2018-05-04
Packaged: 2019-03-21 04:39:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13733334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClockworkQueenTK/pseuds/ClockworkQueenTK
Summary: Second chances are always hard to come by.So when Jonathan Morgenstern wakes up in a hospital room in Paris he knows that he's been given a second chance at life and he doesn't hesitate to take it and redeem himself.Although he's reborn as himself, he cannot go back to his family. Reaching out for help from a special someone, he goes undercover by the name Ansel Bayard who is sent from the Clave as extra help for the Paris Institute where he meets a new family and struggles with an inner battle of guilt of the mayhem that his old self-has caused and a longing for a family and a life he doesn't even know.As the days are filled with lies, love, and mysteries a powerful evil is slowly rising in the Paris catacombs threatening everything that Jonathan and the shadowhunters of the Paris Institute have built.But Jonathan has a secret weapon inside of him that even he does not know about, and it might just unlock the secret of how he came to be and save his new true life and family.





	1. Prologue

Jonathan had woken up with a sudden jolt and his heart hammering in his chest. It was as if he was drowning and had just only resurfaced. He coughed up a mixture of blood and water on the side as a mundane lady in pink scrubs came to help him. He looked around frantically taking in his surroundings and saw that he was currently in a hospital room.

"What happened? Who are you? Where's Cla...." he sputtered as he coughed up more water and blood and a frequent beeping sound had increased. He had taken the lady in pink by the shoulders and started to frantically shake her and bombard her with questions.

"Monsieur, I'm going to need you to calm down," she said her words were heavy with a french accent, "your blood pressure is no good and iz rising. I will explain everything but you need to calm down."

"How can I calm down!? I'm supposed to be dead!" Jonathan exclaimed just as the nurse pushed a needle to his arm and pushed him back to the chair. Jonathan's vision began to blur as the nurse whispered, "Just calm down monsieur, tu es en sécurité," and Jonathan allowed the blackness to take over him and fell into a deep sleep.

Jonathan woke up in a calmer state the next day and opened up his green eyes sleepily as he looked around and came face to face with a man in a white coat smiling hesitantly. A silence stretched out between them as Jonathan tried to make out the man's identity but couldn't. He tried getting himself up but and excruciating pain had stung him in his chest, and he immediately fell back down wincing.

"Yeah I wouldn't do that if I were you," the doctor said his grey eyes shining. "I'm Dr. Martin, by the way."

"What happened? And where am I?" Jonathan asked. His voice wavering slightly as he held back his coughs and failed to do so. The doctor waited until he stopped and said, "You're in a hospital in Paris. You were found washed up in the Deauville Beach unconscious and a young woman was kind enough to call the ambulance and bring you here."

Jonathan winced again not from the pain, but at the act of kindness that he so clearly did not deserve. "How long have I been out?" he asked anxiously.

"About a week," the doctor said and then asked hesitantly, "do you have anyone we should contact for you? Any family or friends?"

Jonathan stayed silent for a long time before shaking his head slowly, "No. I'm on my own."

The doctor didn't respond for a while before saying, "Well, um, you're not fully healthy yet but tests say you should be up and ready in the next maybe five days," he passed Jonathan a brief nod and stood up to leave. He reached the door but before he could open it and leave, he stopped in his tracks and turned to Jonathan with a curious look, "You made a rather quick and swift recovery considering."

"Considering what?" Jonathan asked.

"The wound on your chest should have killed you. You're very lucky to be alive right now," the doctor said before leaving and closing the door behind him leaving Jonathan to his own gloomy thoughts.

All Jonathan could think then was that he was not lucky.

I would have been lucky if I was dead.


	2. Jonathan

It went by in a blur.

It all just went by quickly almost like a dream that I can't remember having. The only thing I remember was reaching for a great bright light urging me to hold on.

To continue.

I liked dying. I had felt so light in such a long time. Like a feather flying free of a weight that's been forced upon it. When I opened my eyes once again and I was met with the realisation that I wasn't dead, I couldn't help but feel empty, like everything I've ever known had just... vanished.

Then the panic obviously kicked in.

I had nowhere to go. No family to turn to. The family that I had probably hate me and anyone who would recognise or know me would probably kill me on the spot, and as much as compelling that is, I couldn't risk it. There must have been a reason as to why I'm here. Clearly, the angel had something planned, and it was probably the fact that I knew it wasn't him inside me or influenced me, but it was me and only me. It was Jonathan, and I might not know anything about myself but I do know that I'm not one to give up easily.

But every breath I took still felt like a knife to my chest.

I remember waking up in the hospital room, the mundane nurse had said I passed out in a coma from a heart stroke. She said I was lucky to be alive and breathing but I wasn't. I was better off dead and done for, and when she complimented me on my 'tattoos' I couldn't control the bile that escaped my throat at the sight of my runes.

I don't deserve them. I don't deserve any of this. Why am I here?

I still had the Morgenstern ring burning my finger. I took it off immediately and threw it across the hospital room ignoring the loud clanking sound it made. I couldn't handle the sight of it and the disgrace I must've given it so I looked out the window instead and found the Eiffel Tower staring right back at me. I was in Paris the very last place I expected to be in. I couldn't help but feel a pang of hurt that I was so far away from my own family, but I already knew they wouldn't want to see me. Paris was both bad and good. I do have brief flashbacks of the beautiful sidewalks and the delicious croissants and hot chocolates sitting peacefully in a charming cafe. But I also have flashbacks of taking the real Sebastian Verlac's life and all the pain and agony his family must have gone through.

Every time I was hit with a familiar and content memory, I was also instantly hit by a disgusting flashback and after a while of staying in that suffocating white mundane hospital room, I reached for the surgery knife, but unfortunately, that nurse came in just in time to inject me.

After my failed attempt to end it, I decided to give whatever this is a chance. There must be a reason why I'm not dead. I can't just ignore it, even if I wouldn't have the life I so desperately yearned for. The family that would never forgive me and accept me, I knew I had to let go and try redeeming everything that I've done, even if it was just a small deed, I had to try doing something, anything.

I knew I couldn't go to the Clave, they'd just kill me on the spot. I couldn't go to Jace or Clary, they'd probably just take me into the clave. Mother probably hates my guts after everything I've put her through, and I wouldn't go back to Valentine, he was already dead anyway. I had no one to turn to. But after a few weeks passing through downworlder territory unnoticed and hearing that a certain warlock was in the city, I knew this was my one only chance, even if it meant risking everything. A drunk warlock was walking down the streets across me, so I took my chance and pushed him to the wall, instantly wincing at the violent act but telling him to contact Magnus immediately. Using a fake name, Ansel Bayard, I told the drunk to tell the high warlock that a group of vampires were brewing something against the Lightwoods.

He'd immediately answered me the day after with a fire message and scheduled a meeting to meet at one of the vampire clubs in Paris.

The meeting was midnight tonight.

I exited the motel I was residing in for a couple of days, blending in with the night in the black hoodie I had on and stolen, that covered up my now faded brown hair that still had many streaks of silver aligning it. They had acted like scars in my opinion and I resisted the urge to shave my entire head off.

As I made my way through the empty streets of Paris I retraced my steps to where the club was. The distant memories of the wonderful city made the path clear and the walk longer than usual.

I was walking down The Rue Cler enjoying the solitude and the calmness of the night and new memories of the city engulfing me when a certain building by the corner caught my eye.

Bouchée Tardive read the broken blazing red sign on top, and I knew I had reached my destination. I looked deeper trying to see past the glamour and bit by bit the once shredded rusted tenement turned into a red nightclub with vampires hungrily walking in with clueless high mundanes. I didn't have a stele to draw a soundless rune to sneak in nor do I have any weapons on me to fight my way in. Cursing, I tried searching the club for a way in when a sultry voice sounded from beside me.

"Hmmm, shadowhunter blood, O' positive, and handsome as well," a red-headed vampire was musing from next to me. She was stunning and tall with her long legs and red dress but her red hair had sent millions of bullets through my chest and I looked away revolted with myself. But I had to swallow up my disgust, and my pride, since I knew this was the only way I could get inside without causing any trouble.

"Oh J'aime un défi! How about I take you inside and I'll give you something to take your mind off all that conclave crap," she murmured stepping a bit too close to me her face lifting up to meet mine and her deep blue eyes boring into my green ones. Her cold hands wrapped around my neck and by the way her eyes were swirling and her lips were moving, I knew she was doing Encanto. I had enough training to be able to resist it, though and I was about to refuse and walk away but then I remembered that I needed to get inside and this seemed to be the only way in. I also realise that she hasn't recognised me and she didn't smell demon blood either. Just pure shadowhunter blood and I couldn't help but feel a pang of pride and relief at the fact that he was really gone.

Putting on a fake sultry smirk on my face, I put my arm around her tiny waist ignoring the twinge in the pit of my stomach as I do, and making her believe that her temptation has worked,let her brush her hungry and dire lips on my cheek as we walk towards the now luxurious lit club. We pass the crowded line of vampires and desperate mundanes trying to get in and stop in front of the tall bulky bodyguard. He passes a glance to the redheaded vampire next me looking her up and down.

"Welcome back mademoiselle, Abelle," he says with his deep appreciative voice. The vampire named Abelle sends him a kiss from her palm to which he grins too. My presence is finally noticed when he turns to me and his giddy expression is quickly replaced by a placid and intimidating demeanour. He looks me from bottom to top obviously looking for something but the scars and runes were all covered up by the long thick sleeves of my hoodie. I realised at that moment that he was a mundane since he couldn't smell the shadowhunter blood in my veins. Abelle forces the bodyguard to look at her and using her talents, convinces him to let us in with no trouble. Like a robot on autopilot, the bodyguard unhooks the entrance and we make our way in.

We enter the club and I'm instantly hit with an aroma of blood, sweat, and hunger all around. There were very few vampires dancing as all of them had their fangs in some poor soul's neck. I realise that I might be one of those poor souls real soon from the close proximity of Abelle's lips were now on my neck and the shrewd lick of her tongue on my skin. I try pulling away from her indirectly pushing her to the dance floor and start scouting for a glimpse of cat eyes or glittery clothes.

Abelle must have noticed my looking around since she was now smiling deviously and her sharp fangs becoming extremely visible, "Oh, non. You aren't getting away that easily," she slurs. Before I know it we're at a table on the very far end corner. The light has been dimmed to darkness and she sinks her vile sharp fangs into my neck. I hiss out at the shocking sting at first and after a while I feel my body become numb and my vision starts to become hazy. I feel my body drain as she starts to suck the blood out, and the room starts turning blurry. Suddenly she hisses viciously after a few gulps of blood and pushes me away almost knocking me out of the plush seat I was sitting on.

"Merde! What is this some kind of foul joke?!" she shrieks, earning us a couple of unpleasant looks our way, "is this some kind of plan from the clave?"

"What are you talking about?" I ask my voice hoarse and my mind dazed from the blood loss.

"Don't try to lie to me shadowhunter. Your blood could have burnt me to ashes!" she sneers.

"How is that..." but I was interrupted by a sudden whoosh.

A vampire with black hair, red eyes and a sharp suit suddenly appeared in front of us. He smiled in what seemed to be a warm manner but came off as cunning to me,"Is there a problem?" he asked. His voice was brass with a heavy French accent.

"En réalité, there is, Cyrielle. This shadowhunter here thinks he could get away with trying to burn us with holy blood," Abelle jeers passing me a vicious look. She goes and stands next to Cyrielle putting her arm around him and whispers in his ear. They both then look at each other and share two devious looks.

What is she talking about?

"Monsieur, do you have any regard as to what we do to shadowhunters who are up to any kind of affaire drôle?" Cyrielle spits out bearing out his claws and sharp teeth, "I do believe we are both gentlemen here, so how about you follow us out, if you may?"

"It's against the Accords to murder a shadowhunter you know, so don't blame me for your misfortunes later," I say trying to sound intimidating. The two vampires start hissing at me and I reach for my seraph blade in my weapons belt, but then I realise that there isn't one, and there isn't a weapons belt either, and I instantly feel the composure I had built slowly break. The two vampires take notice of my lack of weapons, as they were currently smiling and grinning deviously from ear to ear.

I could just take them out with no weapon. But I'm once again reminded that I don't have a stele.

"Looks like a shadowhunter is nothing without his figurines," Abelle mused and they both began to giggle, "Don't fret beau, we'll go easy on you."

I'm thinking of an alternative way out of this when a voice sounds from behind Cyrielle, "This is actually getting old, you know?" the voice mused. Magnus Bane was leaning coolly against the pillar currently fidgeting with a loose string of clothing. He turned his cat eyes to us and then added "Me doing the whole saving thing. It stops getting fun once it's happened a couple of million times."

"What is your business here, Magnus?" Cyrielle sneers baring his teeth out to the warlock obviously trying to intimidate him.

Magnus just coughs up and lets out a whiff of disgust, "You might want to brush your teeth, Cyrielle. Bad breath is pretty bad for business," he says patting Cryielle's back, "and it just so happens I need this handsome fellow your so adamant on sucking the life out of, so if you don't mind..." he trails off walking past the two vampires to stand next to me, but the two vampires just scoff and stand on wall in front of me. Magnus's mischievous features instantly turn into more sombre ones as his cat eyes light up, "You see my patience is wearing thin lately and it would be a shame really if you both woke up tomorrow with half burnt faces don't you think? So let's all just let this one go," he says threateningly but still manages to add a bit of a playful tone. They both snarl and stand there for what seemed like forever growling before Cyrielle vanished. Abelle stayed for a bit longer and walked over to me and with a shivering look, she whispered, "Don't think this is over, beau," before making her exit leaving a cold atmosphere around.

I let out a breath of relief and slump down on the purple loveseat. I don't dare meet Magnus's eyes, afraid he might see right through my lies, as he sits down across from me and closes the curtains with a wave of his palm.

"So let's just get to the point, shall we?" he says, "what rookie vampire group thinks they could threaten my family?"

I swallow down the lump in my throat before saying, "I don't have any news on the Lightwoods I just said that to get you here," my voice was rough as I finally faced Magnus's curious gaze.

"Listen here buddy, I'm already taken and happy with ..." he starts but I quickly interrupt him, "No, that's not why I asked you to come."

An awkward silence stretches between us, the only sound audible is the blasting music and vampires feeding on blood. I take a deep breath and making my decision, I finally pull the hood off my silver-brown hair and face him completely.

He looks at me and his playful expression slowly turns into a threatening and alarmed look as he finally recognises the situation. He wisps his palms as yellow sparkles start appearing and I feel my chest stiffen with an excruciating pain.

"You just don't die, do you?" he seethes out as he twists his palms more and I grit my teeth, "how are you still alive, the heavenly sword should have been enough to kill you. We threw away your ashes," my chest goes tighter and tighter after every question.

"I don't know!" I grit out fighting the choking lump in my throat, "but I'm not Sebastian I promise! It's Jonathan!" Magnus looks unsure as he harshly takes my face with his free palm and his cat eyes meet my green ones. His expression changes from sour to confusion, as the yellow sparkles, fade from his other right hand and I feel a weight lift off my chest as I struggle to catch my breath.

Magnus sits back but still keeps his guard up as I calm my breathing. He doesn't waste time, however, and demands, "Explain."

And so I do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there!
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! As you can tell I'm a huge fan of the Shadowhunters book chronicles. I just thought of how heartbreaking and unfair that we never really got to know Jonathan as a character and I thought it would be interesting. 
> 
> I really hope you guys like it and I'd really appreciate some feedback!! <3333
> 
> I'll be sure to post a new chapter twice or once a week depending on how busy my schedule is. 
> 
> Also, don't forget to stop by swoonreads.com and read my novel! 
> 
> It's called Chasing Kismet and I'd really appreciate some feedback! 
> 
> Happy reading!


	3. Chapter: Jonathan

After I was done with the whole story of the miracle of my survival, Magnus was left speechless. We sat there in an acute quiet both of us still not grasping the tale. I was beginning to think that he wasn’t even listening to me and was merely stalling till he could kill me, which quite frankly wouldn’t be a bad idea. But when I finally built up the courage to face him he wasn't staring at me like he wanted to drown the life out of me again but staring intensely at the wall lost in thought. After a full six minutes he finally turned to look at me, and instead of the look of pure hatred he had given me when he had first entered, he looked at me with a sort of sympathy and confusion, as if he didn’t know what he was going to do with me or himself. I couldn’t help but think that I preferred the hatred, and looked down at my stolen black biker boots. I had to wrestle a middle-aged man on a motorcycle for them when I worked at the gas station. I bite back the smirk that almost broke out at the memory. I didn’t dare give any reaction. Though since I was afraid that Magnus would mistake it as an indication that I was Sebastian.   
I risked a glance at the warlock and found that he was staring at me with a look of apprehension evident on his face. Magnus cleared his throat and said in a voice of disbelief, “But listen, er… Jonathan...” he said and I winced slightly, “the Clave had your body burnt. Your ashes were thrown into Lake Lynn. You shouldn’t even be here... let alone your body parts.”   
I clenched my jaw not bothering with an answer I didn’t have. We sat there on the purple plush sofas, the faded thumping electronic music in the background covering the silence for what felt like forever. I was thinking of different ways as to why I was even here or if this was all a dream and I’d end up waking up from or better yet end up waking up in hell when Magnus spoke again, “It really is you then, Jonathan?”   
I nodded my head, unable to speak at the rising bile in my throat.   
Magnus let out an exasperated breath before muttering to himself, “Why do I always put myself in these situations?” before turning to me and saying, “I’ll help you, pretty boy, but you have to promise me one thing.”   
I looked up in disbelief and had to restrain myself from hugging him.   
“Yes! Anything!” I said unable to control my leaping chest and the huge weight lifted off my back. He’s really going to help. This might even give me a chance to fix everything and everything with my family. I can finally give them the brother, son, and friend they deserve…   
“You stay away from Clary, Jocelyn, Jace and everyone else. It won’t do you or them any good if you make contact with them,” Magnus said with a very, very grave look crushing all hopes that I had away.   
I felt my growing smile fade away from my face as quickly as it came, and the lump in my throat came back. I looked away and tried to conceal the anger and took some deep breaths to calm myself down. It was either I start a brand new life and never see my family again, or not start a life at all.   
Taking a deep breath I nod my head and force my lips to move, “Alright, I promise.”   
Magnus stared at me for a long time clearly making sure I wasn’t lying, before nodding his own head clearly making a decision and not wasting any time we began with planning my new life.   
“Do you still want to continue as a shadow hunter? Or rather in this circumstance start anew?” he asked lightly with not a care in the world as if it wasn’t something that could determine the rest of my life.  
I thought about it briefly but the answer was obvious.   
Obviously, I am going to continue. I have to. I’m going to become the shadowhunter that radiates justice, and not fear. The shadowhunter that saves and protects, not kills and murders. The shadowhunter my mother and sister would have wanted me to be. The shadowhunter I was supposed to be and the shadowhunter I now have the chance to be.   
It’s my only way for repenting for everything that I’ve done.   
“Yes, I would like to continue as a shadowhunter,” I answered confidently and added in a more lighter tone, “I mean obviously.”   
“Alright, jeez. No matter who you shadowhunters are, you’re all as cocky as it gets,” Magnus muttered. He took some time to think and his face lit up with an idea, “We could send you to the Paris Institute as a new recruit since all of the institutes are looking for new shadowhunters since… ” He stopped there but I knew he wanted to say something along the lines of since you killed every last one of them, or worst turned them into something terrible.   
“Yeah, that would be great,” I said feigning excitement.   
“You look even sadder when you pretend not to be. Don’t worry the whole ‘brooding I just came back from the dead with no answers’ actually looks good on you,” Magnus said with a smirk. “You remember all your training though, right?” he asked and I automatically nod even though I wasn’t completely sure if I did.   
“You’re going to have to establish a new identity. No one can know who you truly are. Not with everyone still fixing up the mess that… he made,” he said and I agreed to understand the situation.   
“You could even use your fake name, that you so creatively came up with,” he muttered and I grinned.   
Ansel Bayard. Huh, not bad.   
“We’ll take care of all the details later, like those awful boots you have on and,” he says waving and pointing all around me, “everything else.”   
I thought for a moment before saying, “Do you think you could help me figure out how this even happened? How I’m even alive right now? Why I’m here in the first place?”   
Magnus looked down and sat silently as if contemplating his choices once again before nodding his head slowly and saying, “I was going to anyways but it is going to take some time. Once I have some answers though, I’ll let you know.”   
I also feel another slowly being lifted off my chest of another problem being solved, but I couldn’t help but notice that I was slightly nervous at finding out how all this came to be. I do want the truth but what if it’s too much for me, and everyone else to handle?  
“When do I start?” I ask taking Magnus off guard.   
“Tonight would be good,” Magnus answered, “The sooner the better.”   
I check the clock on the dimmed walls, saying it was two in the morning.   
“Alright, let’s go,” I say eagerly.   
Magnus rolled his eyes and got up handing me rolls of cash. “Go and get yourself some clean clothes first, and I’ll deal with the stele and clave situation. I’ll meet you at the front of this club in an hour or so, if you’re late you could forget about this entire deal, and it wouldn’t kill shaving and getting a haircut you know.”   
I looked at him baffled before asking, “Why are you even helping me? Don’t you hate me?”   
Magnus stared at me, obviously taken aback by my question, “I don't hate you. I hate him, and you’re not him. You’re someone who wasn’t given a chance to live,” and then he cast a quick look at me with sad cat eyes before leaving.   
I left a few minutes after him and embarked on the first steps of my journey.   
Let’s just hope I don’t this mess up.

***** 

The Paris Institute was just as I remembered it.   
It took some time to take the glimmer off since it had extra barriers for protection, but once the huge Victorian mansion, and it’s black bricks and tall spiky fences came into view sent cold chills down my spine. It somehow looks a lot darker and empty from the last time I was here, and I knew it was because of the incredible loss and damages the Institute has had.   
I knew it was also all my fault that such a lively place is now dead.   
It was currently 4:06 in the morning making the atmosphere eerier. After putting on some new clothes and shoes that were my size, I had gathered all my belongings and met Magnus exactly an hour after, although he was thirty minutes late before he handed me new gear and teleported us here.   
The trees around us rattled as the air sent a cold breeze, and I clenched my jaw holding back the bile in my throat at what I had done the last time I was here. I turned to look at Magnus staring at me concernedly and looked away instantly revolted, “Don’t look at me that way. I don’t deserve it,” I said.   
Magnus didn’t respond but reached for my hand and placed a stele in my palm. I looked at him shockingly then looked at the stele and caressed the familiar shape of it. A few seconds passed before Magnus cleared his throat and said in a much more mature tone, “Now remember you’re Ansel Bayard. A shadow hunter sent from the Clave to reside here due to the lack of shadowhunters present here.”   
“What if the Clave informs them that I’m lying?” I asked.   
“You don’t need to worry about that. I took care of it.” Magnus responded. “Now go on then, it’s already rude that you’re disturbing their sleep.”   
I took a deep breath and turned towards the institute and forced my legs to move towards the tall black gates. When I took the twenty steps it took me to get to the gate I turned around to Magnus watching me warily.   
“Thank you,” I said.   
Magnus just nodded his head briefly.   
I turned back towards the gate and touching its cold metal I pushed it open and took an accepting step in, as I began my new life. 

**** 

The garden was shadowed with the dark gloomy night and the feeling of grief was everywhere. The grass was too long and the plants were left unattended as dead plants and branches overwhelmed the greenery. I walked on the stone platform leading to the double doors of the Institute in a hurry before changing my mind. I was halfway through the never-ending garden when the door opened to reveal a middle-aged tall woman, who was undoubtedly Elodie Verlac, the head of the Paris Institute. She had dark brown hair just like her nephew, but her eyes were a light hazel that was shadowed with a lifetime of sorrow. She had soft features that clashed with her strong muscled body. Her toned arms were covered with runes and scars of past battles that looked like nothing next to the battle evident in her eyes. She caught my eye and smiled a warm smile that made all my insides hurt, but I forced a smile back.   
When I made it to the outdoor staircase, I stopped to face her.  
“Bonjour am. You must be the shadowhunter sent to us by the Clave,” she said with her light highly accented voice, “It’s Ansel Bayard right?”   
I nodded not being able to talk through the growing lump in my throat. I restrained the thousands of apologies I wanted to say.   
“Dieu merci for that!” she said beckoning me to follow her in. “The Institute has been looking for more shadowhunters you see, we’ve lost many of them from the Dark War and have been begging the Clave to provide us with help, but they’ve ignored our calls as they always have ‘more important matters’.” She rolled her eyes at the last statement.   
We walked along the long dark quiet corridors that were carpeted with a velvet shade. The wooden brown walls were decorated with expensive looking paintings and the ceilings had dusty chandeliers dangling from them every few steps we took. Elodie noticed my eyes to them and let out an embarrassed chuckle as she said, “Sorry about that. The caretaker is quite lazy around here.”   
I shook my head and let out a forced out a chuckle. The dusty atmosphere was nothing compared to the rat-infested motel I had to live in for a couple of weeks or the diner with spider cobwebs at random corner I had to work in.   
“I’m sorry to come at such short notice and at such an inconvenient hour…” I said thinking I needed to say something.   
“Oh no, the fans pas. Everyone here is always up late,” she said with a small smile. “Lucky for you everyone here is awake now and awaiting your arrival.”   
I gave back a genuine smile.   
We took a turn to the right to find a large opening leading to a huge living room.   
The modern furniture unbelievably clashed with the Victorian structure of the Institute, with its leather couches, TV, and gaming console. It had all sorts of small figurines and gadgets thrown around, and there were more windows in this room but that did nothing to the gloomy feeling in the Institute. There were three people in the living room who I believed to be the shadowhunters from their runes and gear. Two were sitting on the leather couch currently playing against each other in a sort of shooting video game, and the other was sitting on a desk with a laptop and robotic gadgets.   
“Hey, Harlow! Why don’t you stop being such a loner and come join us? I’m beating your brother’s ass in this,” a girl with dark skin and vibrant violet hair sounded from the couch. She was wearing an oversized black hoodie over her gear.   
The girl on the desk rolled her eyes and continued working on whatever she was working. Her dark black curved eyes were deeply focused on trying to get the metal gadget to work, and her light brown hair was sticking out in different places as if she’s always getting electrocuted.   
“You’re not beating me, I’m just letting you win,” the guy, who looked to be Harlow’s brother as he had the same oriental features as her, said in an embarrassed tone.   
Elodie cleared her throat and all the eyes turned to her then at me.   
“This right here is Ansel Bayard. The new shadowhunter that’ll be staying with us,” she announced in a proud yet wary voice. They put down the controllers and gadgets as they all slowly stood up all of their faces were expressionless.   
“What’s up with your hair?” the brother asked in a displeased tone. “Do you have like cancer or something?”   
“Thomas!” Elodie exclaimed shooting him a shocked look to which he shrugged off.   
“What! I’m just asking!” he shot back.   
“Uh, no I guess I was just… born like this,” I answered, my voice rough.   
“Oh cool so like a genetic mutation or something,” the girl with the violet hair said.   
“Uh, yeah I guess,” I answered.   
Elodie cleared her throat and began with the introductions. She pointed at violet hair first, “This is Ruby Laurent. She’s one of the best shadowhunters in France, and she helps my sister, Lola, with the training sessions.”   
Ruby extends her hand out and although her smile was warm, her deep blue eyes were staring up into mine as if deciding from now whether or not she accepted me here, and although I was twice her size her dominant demeanour made her look as tall as I am.  
I shaken her hand, her grip was firm making the tension in the room rise up, as Elodie introduced me to the other two, “And these two over here are Harlow and Thomas Petit. They’re siblings and their mother actually works in the Clave.”   
The girl, Harlow gave me a shy smile and shook my hand before looking down and pulling up her round glasses, whilst the guy, Thomas nodded briefly in my direction with a queasy expression, ignoring my extended hand. He turned towards Elodie with a more softer look as he said, “Don’t we get a ‘one of the best shadowhunters’ phrase.”   
Elodie rolled her eyes but she was obviously fighting a smile as she said, “No but you do get a ‘one of the most annoying shadowhunters’ phrase.”   
Thomas put his hand on his muscled torso and feigned a hurt look.   
Elodie looked around obviously looking for one more person before saying, “Oh pour l'amour de Dieu! Where in the angel is Audra?”   
All three immediately bent their heads and passed each other a shared disapproving look.   
Elodie looked at them in understanding, “I should’ve known. You all didn’t tell her, am I right?”   
None of them responded.   
“Who’s Audra?” I asked the name felt fairly foreign to my tongue.   
“She’s the other shadowhunter who lives here,” Elodie answered.   
Ruby scoffed, “If you could call her that.”   
I passed her a questioning look to which she answered with, “She’s half-warlock and the worst shadowhunter ever.”   
“Ruby! How dare you say that!” Elodie exclaimed. “She is as much shadowhunter as any of us.”   
Ruby rolled her eyes and turned away muttering something in the words of ‘half-breed’ before plotting down on the leather couch. Elodie eyes widened but before she could say anything Harlow put her arm on her elbow saying, “I’ll talk to her,” before turning away and plopping down, a little too close, next to Ruby.   
“Okay, I guess you’ll meet Audra in the afternoon then. She’s probably sleeping now, anyways,” Elodie said. “Let me show you to your room,” and with that, she led me out.   
I cast a look at me and just as I predicted, Thomas was standing there in the same place staring daggers at my back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!!!! 
> 
> Sorry for not posting this past week, I had a really busy schedule annndddd my laptop got screwed over.   
> I'll be sure to organize my life though so don't worry, hehehehhe.   
> Here's an extra long chapter to make up for my lack of posting.   
> You guys are also gonna be introduced to some new characters here!   
> I hope you guys like them. 
> 
> If you guys have time to drop by swoonreads.com to read my novel, 'Chasing Kismet', and giving me some feedback I'd reeaallllyyy appreciate it!!!


	4. UPDATE

Hey you guys!!!! 

I know it's been a long time since I updated and I hope you guys aren't too upset.   
It's just lately I've been going through something and I found myself in a slump. I wouldn't read or write or do anything... it was horrible :(   
But I promise I'm getting myself back on track and updated chapters are coming soon!!! :D   
So sorry for taking so long but thank you guys for being patient. 

Lots of Love <333333


	5. Chapter 5: Audra

Audra

I woke up to the curtains opening fiercely by a strong wind.   
I groaned not wanting to wake up just yet, and pulled the covers over my head. As I began to slowly drift back to my dreams the covers were suddenly thrust out of the way, and I was meant with the shocking cool air, and I knew if I didn’t stop this now then I was going to end up on the cold wooden floor again.   
Oh by the angel.  
“Genevieve! Let me sleep!” I exclaimed to the empty room as I muffled my face into my pillow and I didn’t have time to even breathe when it slipped from underneath me again. Genevieve, the Institute’s ghost slowly made herself visible to me and she began to giggle as she snatched my pillow away. “No can do ma chérie. You have to wake up early today to practice and train, and you missed a rather important event last night,” Genevieve said. Her hollow eyes were shining with mischief and her shredded old fashioned dress making whooshing sounds as she glided around my bed humming a cheery tune.  
My head suddenly snapped up at the news, “What do you mean?”   
Genevieve sat on the side of my bed, her weight doing nothing to change the bed, and started giggling and leaning in like we were teenagers in a slumber party, “They’ve brought in a new shadowhunter, and oh mon dieu how handsome he is!”   
“What?!Why didn’t anyone tell me?” I asked suddenly fully awake.   
Genevieve looked at me warily obviously not wanting to tell me the answer I already knew.   
Ever since I was brought here to the Institute I was immediately shunned for being half-warlock. No one here ever really dealt with someone like me. Ruby especially disliked me as her family was brutally tortured and murdered by an evil gang of warlocks a few years ago. But they all knew I was no threat to them since I couldn’t muster any magic from anywhere inside me nor do I know how, and I’m sure as hell that no one here would be obliged to teach me. Genevieve says that all people, even shadowhunters, never accepted something or someone they don’t understand and that it should be something that I’m proud of but it isn’t.  
Most of the time I wish I wasn’t even a shadowhunter or had any part of the shadow world. But then again I don’t fit in anywhere.   
“I’m sorry ma chérie,” Genevieve says in a comforting tone.   
I sighed and threw my head back on the soft welcoming pillow. “It’s fine. I had dance practice anyways,” I said.   
“At 4’am? Don’t try lying to me ma chérie, I know you are very committed to your dancing but that wasn’t why you were out so late. Genevieve teased with a knowing smile, “You sneaked out to check up on that man from the beach again.”   
Sometimes I hate the fact that she’s a ghost that literally knows everything that goes on in the Institute.   
I rolled my eyes and turned away from her to hide my reddening cheeks, “They let him out anyways.”   
Genevieve just laughed and said in a sing song voice, “Whatever you say ma chérie! Now come on and bust that perky little arse of yours to the bathroom.”   
I was walking late at night by the beach when I saw that a body was lying unconscious on the sandy ground. I immediately rushed over to him checking his pulse and performing the mandatory medical procedures before deciding to call an ambulance. Whilst waiting for them to turn up, I took the time to study the unconscious man. He was quite handsome, but the thing that piqued my interest were the runes embroidered on his arms and the washed up gear he was wearing.   
He was a shadowhunter, and a lost one at that.   
He didn’t have a stele on him so I took matters into my own hands and glamoured his runes, hiding them, so that he wouldn’t look suspicious. Luckily my skills at a shadowhunter were actually working out for once. His worn out gear looked normal enough for him to pass as a heavy metal rock fan or something, but as I was searching for any wounds around I built up the courage to look under his shirt and my breath caught in my chest at the gigantic red hole on his chest. That surely wouldn’t pass for anything normal and the mundane doctors wouldn’t know what to do so I did what I had to do. Knowing that he was a shadowhunter I reached for my stele and drew a large iratze hoping that it would at least keep a wound so deep like this stable. To my surprise and relief the iratze miraculously took its action instantly but excruciatingly slow.   
My thoughts were interrupted by Genevieve snatching away the pillow making it drop to the floor.   
“GENEVIEVE!” I shrieked.   
She just giggled and then pointed firmly towards the bathroom telling me the pillow won't be the only thing that’s going to be snatched to the floor if I don’t get my arse moving.   
Yes, arse moving.  
I grumpily make my way towards the bathroom tripping over some figurines and yarn balls that somehow ended up on the floor. I stand in front of the sink and check my reflection ignoring my warlock trademark that I try so hard to hide but fail every time since it’s too obvious. While my left eye is a normal hazel colour, my right eye is a vivid purple that always stood out and had reminded me daily of what I was. I was left here at the age of six by Magnus Bane who took me in when my shadowhunter father, Martin Verlac, decided he didn’t want me anymore. I don’t remember much about him, and probably never will since he was most likely killed during the Dark War.   
I never knew much of my mother either, only that she was a warlock who now worked in the Spiral Labyrinth. I always think about her and if she knew that she had the worst shadowhunter, and warlock, to ever exist as a daughter or if she cared enough to know.   
I sucked at being a shadowhunter no matter how hard I trained, and I was never able to harness any supernatural powers to qualify for a warlock. The one thing that really brought me happiness was dancing and occasional walks down the calm sidewalks taking breaks sitting in a cafe with a good book as if I was anyone else part of the crowd and not some secluded half-breed that didn’t fit anywhere in the shadow world.   
I shook my head clearing it and began with my daily routine of brushing my teeth, washing my face, and braiding my long strawberry blonde hair to the side. I make my way to the victorian closet at which Genevieve was already picking out an outfit for me. I ignored her extravagant ensemble of a puffy shirt and skirt and settled for my gear pants and a black sweater. I was clumsily tying the lace to my combat boots when Genevieve sat down on the table with the abandoned sewing machine resting on top of it admiring it longily.   
“Do you miss it?” I ask her, knowing how much she used to love fashion back when she was alive. She loved it so much that she even taught me how to sew my own clothes. Lately however, I haven’t been spending so much time at the institute finding my late night trips more tempting than the neglection I face here.   
Genevieve looked back at me and smirked, “Not as much as fighting alongside my fellow shadowhunters.”   
I look away not being able to relate.   
Genevieve never talked about her past or why she’s bound to the institute or why she didn’t… pass on, and everytime I try to question her about it I end up being met with silence and her sudden disappearance, and when she disappears I tend to be left alone and I don’t think anyone appreciates that.   
I finish up tying my boots and make my way out with Genevieve tailing behind me. Everyone in the institute is still asleep since it was quite early. But the earlier I get up in the morning, the more training I get done and the less hate I get.   
Genevieve suddenly gasps letting out breaths of cold air everywhere that force my legs to stop and her face suddenly looks more hollow and dead.   
Well I mean she is practically dead, but sometimes I can’t help but feel she has more life in her than anyone does in the institute. Or even the world.   
She usually does this whenever something unexpected happens anywhere in the institute. I reach for my twin daggers that I find weren’t there because I’m just such a good and ready shadowhunter before her shocked expression slowly turns back into her usual cheeky grin and the cold air is instantly replaced with her usual warmness.  
“What is it?” I ask concernedly.   
She looks at me and smirks, “Nothing ma chérie! Now move and get to training…” she starts shooing me away and adds, “in the training room.”   
I roll my eyes, “Yeah ‘cause I was going to train in the kitchen you know the lightning is so much better there,” I say sarcastically.   
“Watch your tone ma chérie, you don’t want me possessing that precious head of yours...” she says in a sing song tone and floats away to most probably have some fun with the lazy caretaker.   
I make my way down the gloomy hall to the training room already dreading the day starting. As I’m passing by the various doors and discarded paintings on the wall. I think back to how Elodie used to paint them from time to time. I used to actually join her and we would paint for hours on end.   
Sometimes she would even let me miss training or classes and claim that she was giving me extra practice when in reality we would be sitting down with cups of tea and express all our feelings out on blank canvases.   
That was before Sebastian, the real Sebastian, died. Elodie loved her niece very much so did we all. He was one of the only ones amongst the once many shadowhunters that ever showed me a hint of respect.   
We even went out for a couple of drinks until everything happened.   
Trust me having the guy your seeing be possessed by a demon can put a real dent in a relationship.   
After Sebastian died, Elodie distanced herself from everyone, especially me, and any hope of a mother figure in my life was quickly demolished. I hadn’t realised how much I needed one until after it was taken away from me for the second time. Genevieve is always telling me I should pursue the unsolved mystery of my mother and how I came to be. I won’t lie I have thought about it countless of times, but I won’t be able to do it alone, and no one here would want to help me.   
Ironically, we both never had mothers or fathers. That’s how we bonded at the beginning when she suddenly started showing up. After I registered the fact that she was a ghost of course and I wasn’t going crazy.  
Genevieve is the closest thing to family I’ve ever had.   
I’m not a complete hopeless case though, I do know why ghosts stick around. I know that Genevieve is still looking for something or some kind of redemption but any time I bring any mention of it she brushes me off and tells me that it’s too soon.   
I make a quick stop by the bookshelf by the door of the training room picking up my doodled version of The Shadowhunter’s Codex as well as other books. I have learned in the past couple of years that physical ability isn’t always what’s important and that mental ability can come quite in handy most of the times, so I began studying and reading to excel my mentality and found myself rather enjoying it much more than I expected to.   
I nudge the door open with my shoulder, trying to keep my different books in my arms and my mind is so occupied of thoughts of composing a reading plan and extra practice that I don’t notice the tall figure currently murdering the poor training doll with his sword.   
The first thing I notice is that he is currently shirtless.   
The second thing I notice is the evident bruise on his chest and it doesn’t take me long to recognise him.  
It’s him.   
My heart starts beating so fast that my vision begins to blur.   
The last time I’d seen him, he had been emaciated, collapsed and severely ill. I remembered pulling him onto my lap and holding my head close to his jaw, seeing if he was still breathing. He had been, but barely. I remember how his eyes fluttered a bit as he mumbled something but I couldn’t make out what it was. He slipped into unconsciousness before I could inquire any more. The man who stood in front of me now was anything but sickly or weak. He was thriving confidence as he took another swift yet firm hit at the poor ragged doll and I couldn’t help but stare. The way he moved was elegant yet calculated. It was as if he was in his own world. It looked almost like he was dancing and I couldn’t help but relate to how lost yet found he looked.   
I couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy either at how skilled he seemed. He seemed even more skilled than Ruby, and that’s saying something. I start thinking of all the newly added pressure on me to train more and exceed over my limits if I’m going to keep the mediocre treatment I’m receiving now. Lola, the trainer, always compares me to the other shadowhunters which never ceases to turn everyone even more against me.  
I’m turning to make my way to the living room when a wind suddenly swishes out of nowhere and all the books I was holding fall out of my arms and the man’s green eyes meet my hazel and violet ones. I curse Genevieve a thousand times before I bend down to pick up the handful of books and pray to the angel that my usual invisibility traits work as usual. But his loud footsteps prove otherwise and I keep my eyes down on the books and to his combat boots that are currently just inches away from me and my books. He bends down to help me and I feel his gaze burning holes into my head.   
“Oh mon dieu! ma chérie! He’s checking you out! Look back at him! Show some interest for once!” Genevieve shrieks and for the first time ever I’m grateful that I’m the only one that could hear her. I roll my eyes and focus on slowing down the action of picking up the last discarded book on the floor instead.   
That obviously didn’t sit well with Genevieve since directly after I felt a wind push me towards the strangers muscled figure and the books once again fell down. He held me firmly in his arms catching me instantly before I could fall down.   
“Don’t worry I got you,” he says in his deep husky voice.   
I curse her a million times in my head before finally looking up and I find myself staring back into tree green eyes. We’re so close that I could feel his hot breath on my face. His height was so intimidating it covered me completely, and my height was pretty average. His eyes travelled along my features his brows creasing as if he’s trying to remember something. I dip my head a bit so that my hair could hide my violet eye hoping he hadn’t noticed it already.   
I realise then that we’ve been staring at each other for quite some time as a smirk started to play out on his lips.   
I quickly gather myself up and begin picking up the books blocking his way to help me.   
“Sorry. I’m a klutz,” I mumble and instantly feel like slapping myself across the face. I can hear Genevieve's facepalm and know she’s going to end up holding this against me later.   
Smooth Audra, real smooth.   
He clears his throat and says once again in his warm voice, “It’s alright.”   
I pick up the last of the book pile and give him a quick smile before turning around.   
“Wait!” he calls out.   
I wince before looking back making sure to avoid his eyes and direct my gaze to his boots yet again.   
“I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced. I’m Jon…. Ansel the shadowhunter they sent to help things around here,” he says and I try my best to look uninterested although my heart began to pound again at the knowledge of his name that I’ve been pondering for quite some time.   
It takes me a while to grasp that it was my turn to speak.   
“I’m Audra,” I say and feel the need to add more, “A shadowhunter here,” I mean obviously.   
I should just stop talking… forever.   
I turn to leave again but once again I’m stopped by that voice, “Shadowhunter? Then how come you have a warlock mark?”   
I grimace once again at my inability to hide it.   
I turn back around and find that he is just a few centimeters away from me and had a smirk plastered on his face. I look up at him making sure to tilt my chin up to look like I have at least a bit of power over here but I’m ninety percent sure I look like an idiot.   
“It’s not a warlock mark… I was just born like this. Genetic mutations you know?” I say.   
He nods his head but he clearly looks like he’s not convinced.   
This time he turns to leave and I let out a breath of relief as I make my way out as quickly as possible. My hands are at the door handles and I’m almost out of here but his voice once again sounds and I almost jump, “Have we met before? I feel like I’ve seen you from somewhere.”   
Shit. Shit. Shit.   
I force my face to turn into the most blank one yet before I turn again and say, “I’m sorry. I don’t think we have but it was nice meeting you though.”   
I quickly open the door and almost rush my way out to the living room. I let out a breath and lean on the walls for support and close my eyes to calm my breathing.   
“Merde! I could feel the intensity pouring from the both of you all the way from the gardens!” Genevieve appears in front of me fanning her delicate face.   
“I feel like I just ran a marathon,” I confess and she smirks at me, “Oh would people just stop doing that!”   
“Doing what, freak?” Ruby’s voice sounds from the end of the hall and I immediately want the ground to swallow me up. Genevieve sticks her tongue at her and I hold my smile at the action.  
“Nothing,” I mutter and walk fast towards the end of the hall making sure not to look at her vivid blue eyes. My plan of avoiding her however doesn’t go as planned as her boots find their way in front of me and I’m down face first to the ground with all my books once again on the ground.   
This didn’t surprise me, however. It would have surprised me if she hadn’t done anything.   
“Oops,” is all she says as she walks past me towards the training room.   
I’m picking up the books that have survived so much in just a few hours when a thump on the ground brings my attention. I look back to see Ruby face down on the ground similar to the position I was just in.   
“Oops,” Genevieve says mimicking Ruby’s snarky voice and looks back at me with a playful smile and I bite back the laugh threatening to escape my lips. Ruby, unbeknownst to Genevieve’s current existence, picks herself up muttering a few inappropriate phrases as she does, and dusts off invisible crumbs off of her gear and before she could look back or frame me for any “magical abnormalities” that could get me kicked out of the institute, I gather my books and rush off to the living room where I’m finally left alone.   
“Ma chérie, you know I love and adore you but you seriously need to learn to stand up for yourself or else you won’t ever get any respect from the people here,” Genevieve says with a scolding but sincere look on her face.   
I don’t say anything but nod as I take a seat at the velvet couch where controllers were left turned on. I’m turning them back off when I notice that Genevieve is hovering above me a wary but mischievous look about her.   
“What?” I say annoyingly.   
She makes a hm sound before settling herself next to me, “In case you care. He was by the door witnessing the entire scene.”   
Oh by the angel.   
My head falls back and I cover my face with my hands and I let out the loudest groan I can muster.   
“You shouldn’t feel embarrassed beauté. He looked concerned and before I intervened he looked as if he was going to intrude,” she says in a comforting tone, “he even laughed a bit when she,” she gestures quotation marks and says, “tripped over,” before falling into a sea of giggles. I wait till she’s calmed down when I face her again.   
“No he was probably laughing at me and wanted to join in with Ruby,” I mumble.   
“You know that isn’t true…” she starts but I interrupt her before she could, “No it is true,” I look at her with wide eyes, “I’m nothing but a useless half-breed! I’m not good at anything nor will I be. I can’t even harness whatever magic I may or may not have in me,” I look away from her wary face and blink back the hot tears threatening to escape, “No one here needs or wants me… not even my parents wanted me. Everywhere I go I’m just a waste of space.”   
“That isn’t true,” I jump as Elodie’s voice sounds from behind me.   
I quickly brush away whatever tears poured down my face and look at her sorrowful one.   
“Audra, you’re more special than anyone in this institute. You just don’t know it yet, but we all need you dearly,” she continues on but all her words sound like meaningless sentences in my ear.   
I meet her kind hollow eyes with my own and tell her something I’ve been wanting to say for a very long time, “Not even you wanted me. After you were done with me you just neglected me just like everyone else.”   
Elodie doesn’t say anything at first, her expression blank, but she finally looks up at me again with a knowing smile and says, “One day, I’ll tell you everything and you’ll know everything, but for now you need to focus on your training and improving yourself.”   
I just scoff and before she could say anything more I quickly walk out towards my room ignoring her calls.   
I decide to study in my room that day where Genevieve already had my books transferred. She doesn’t say anything but she doesn't have to. Times like these I just appreciate her just being here with me. I change out of my gear to some sweatpants and fuzzy socks and sit on my bed with Genevieve next to me as we get ready to hit the books. I search through the pile for my codex but find it isn’t there. I look for it in my room but it’s nowhere to be found. I must have dropped it in the hallway so I decide to move on to something else.   
Genevieve who was helping me study and train clumsily in my own room was smiling the entire time.   
I didn’t possess the energy to ask what mischief she was planning though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!!!!! 
> 
> Finallllyyyyy updated and I'm super excited for this chapter as well since you guys will be introduced to Audra!!!   
> She's going to play a major role in the story as well and now that all the main characters are introduced the real story begins! Hehehe 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!!!   
> Lots of Love <3333


	6. Jonathan

Jonathan 

I had woken up from a sleepless night that was haunted by nightmares of fire, demons, and torturous screams. The nightmares seem to be increasing lately as the guilt began to weigh me down by the second, the minute I stepped into the Paris Institute. It’s only been one night but it takes only a glance at the mansion to notice that the damage done here was too impactful to ignore.  
The rooms are too empty. It was almost as if the ghosts of the past shadowhunters that lived here were wordlessly roaming around giving the empty rooms an even deeper feeling of bareness. The atmosphere is too lifeless any sign of laughter or joy seemed to disintegrate in the desolate air. 

I looked over to my side to check the dusty Victorian clock on the bedside table and found that it was still 4:00 in the morning. Falling back asleep seemed to be an impossible action at that point and pulling away from the black sheets I walked over to the closet and put on the new gear given to me by Elodie that fit a bit too perfectly. It was too early and the windows had shown that the sun still hadn’t risen up yet.  
I headed directly to the training room retracing my steps from the tour last night and pushed open the dark wooden door. I was immediately hit by an aroma of metal, sweat, and familiarity. The room was vast and had similar wall patterns to the hallways. Although it stuck with the Victorian theme that seemed to be set in the entire mansion, it did have modern devices and technology being kept inside. The weapons were displayed in full eyesight on the walls taking over a quarter of the walls in the room. I walked over to the wide range collection of swords and looked for a sword. All of them, of course, was nothing compared to the glory of Phaesphoros.  
But no. That wasn’t even mine.  
That sword was not used for any justice and brought no glory. It only brought death and agony down one everyone.  
Disgusted with myself I picked the broadest of the swords and walked over to a polished training dummy. I just stared at it at first and I began to fear that I had lost all my skills and forgotten everything there is to know of combat. But the second I raised the sword I was met with the familiar surge of confidence and dominance. With each strike I hit at the training doll I became more and more present.  
It was almost nostalgic how satisfying the noise of the dummy being torn apart felt and how perfectly aimed and disciplined my movements were. After I was done with the dummy I went to another one next to it and the one next to that one and before I knew it the sun had risen up and I had gone through half of the dolls in the training room. I hadn’t even realised the time flying by and crunched down to take a breath. Feeling the need to release more frustration and anger I made my way to another dummy.  
I was interrupted, however, by a loud thump of books.  
The minute our eyes got caught the sound of sea waves and a soft breeze blocked my ears and for the first time in an unbelievably long time, I felt like the weight in my chest lift even more significant than a hundred hours of training ever could.  
We froze just staring at each other for a while, and as I was trying to pinpoint where I could have seen her, whether if it was in my past life or now, her face had suddenly turned alarmed and she moved her head to cover half of her beautiful face with her strawberry blonde hair. She then mumbled something under her breath and resorted to scooping down to collect her books. Feeling slightly guilty at her but amused at her embarrassment, I made my way to her crouching down next to her small figure to help pick up the books. She had a dozen of volumes of shadowhunter books that I’ve already known by heart. The others were unrecognizable to me since they looked like they had nothing to do with the shadow world. I remember wanting to read such books from the Morgenstern’s private library finding an interest to all those stories, but I was immediately shut down and forced to train or do something else shadow related. I remember a few weeks after discovering that section I went back to it only to find all the books burnt to nothing but ash and the shelf completely broken down.  
Shaking my head out of those horrible memories I restored my attention back to the girl in front of me and the thoughts were instantly soothed by sounds of waves and a cool breeze. Her gaze had kept averting to my chest and it was only then did I realise that I did not have my shirt on and I couldn’t help but smirk at her flushing cheeks. When she noticed me staring, she lifted her head up to meet mine. I had to look twice since there was a glamour on them that was immaturely applied to her eyes but when I began to see right through it, I couldn’t look away. Her right eye that was being covered up by her hair, was a vivid violet that seemed to swirl the deeper you looked at it. Her left eye, however, was an ordinary light hazel. When I stared too long she tilted her head down, picked up the last of her books rashly, and stood to leave.  
I wasn’t going to let her get away that easily though, and I stood up with her. Having to tilt my head down to meet her gaze I asked her if I knew her from somewhere. She turned a bit too late and slowly met my gaze before she answered me.  
She was a bad liar.  
The way her delicate shoulders tense up or the way her extraordinary eyes go wide before her soft lips would quiver and she spits out her untruth. I nodded and let her think that I was convinced but I was going to find out who she was and why she seemed to calm the commotion inside. She was halfway through the door when I asked what her name was, and once she had given it to me, she rushed too quickly out the door.  
It was quite amusing really.  
Even her name sounded beyond unique.  
Audra.  
I tested it out on my tongue for a while after she left letting the sound of its elegance and its speciality sink in. Finding myself thinking of another thing to say to her instead of training, I quickly ran out after her only to find a disturbing scene of Audra fallen on the ground and being teased by none other than Ruby.  
What bothered me even more that Audra had done nothing to stand up for herself it was as if she was used to this mistreatment. I had wanted to intervene before Ruby had tripped over herself startling a chuckle out of me that shocked me more than it entertained me. The sound of it sounds foreign and unfamiliar to me.  
Ruby was stomping her way back to the training room and I had quickly run back inside and busied myself with inspecting my weapon.  
Half-breed.  
That’s what Ruby had called her when she entered.  
It was an interesting insult since I have never really heard of it before. What was a half-breed anyways, and why was Ruby acting so cruelly towards Audra?  
I sat down on one of the benches by the walls collecting my thoughts and taking a quick break while watching Ruby go through the weaponry. She hadn’t noticed me witnessing the entire scene that took place in the hallway so I pretended as if I didn’t know in case it would cause any more conflict between the two and let myself enjoy her tense and sore mood obviously caused by the embarrassment she must have been feeling.  
She settled for her weapon of choice which was a vast metal axe and sat beside me on the benches as she began to sharpen it with a knife. She looked at me with a confidence as if her demeanour intimidated me but all it did was amuse me.  
I rolled my eyes and looked away to return for some more training before I would resign back to my bedroom or the library. I made my way to a training doll that has already taken many strikes and began to hit it even stronger.  
“I guess you could say that it’s going to be quite a competition between us now,” she says as I was about to chop off its head.  
“What do you mean?” I asked not bothering to look back at her.  
“Well it goes without saying that I am the best shadowhunter here if not in all of France,” she responds lifting her chin up high and I snort resisting the urge to laugh.  
“Really? Well isn’t that just a privilege,” I retorted sarcastically.  
“Yeah it really is,” she grits out.  
The sound of two metals gliding suddenly stops.  
Her footsteps were too loud and her breath too shallow but her reflexes were quick as my sword met her axe in the middle of the spacious training room. She locked gazes with me sporting an intense and confident look that amused me even further and I felt my face break into a giddy grin as we commenced into a brawl.  
I had to be honest and say I wasn’t trying hard and not doing my best but it was sort of fun and even refreshing to have a quick fight where no one’s life was at stake. I couldn’t deny that she was a strong fighter but she was trying too hard for a mere quick sword fight.  
Our weapons clash and she looks directly into my eyes feigning confidence, although from the slump of her shoulders and the sweat on her brow, I could tell she’s getting tired.  
“You’re not as bad as I thought you were,” Ruby says in between heavy breaths.  
I match her smirk with my own and say, “You’re not as good as I thought you were.”  
Her grin is replaced with a snarl as she finally begins to fight stronger. Her movements become quicker and her hits become stronger. Her stamina increasing to an appreciable capacity almost matching my own.  
Almost.   
After going back and forth for a while now and having proved my point I swiftly trip her over her legs, similar to the way she tripped Audra, and point my sword at her chest ending the brawl. Ruby’s vivid blue eyes flash with theory as she reaches for her axe again but I kick it away before she could.  
“You missed the most important rule of combat, Ruby,” I said feigning a confident tone.  
She snarled and retorted, “Oh yeah? What is it?”  
I leaned down and caught her ferocious gaze with my calm one, “Never underestimate your opponent.”  
I didn’t give her a chance to respond as I picked my sword up to place it back and turn to leave.  
All the while knowing I gained her respect but also gaining her resentment in the process.


End file.
